Repentant V2
by totalitarian driptatorship
Summary: Sometimes, the only winning move is not to play. The remnants of a torn humanity, in all their infinite wisdom, have recognized this. Following a rather violent egress from the world as they know it, a tough-as-nails, cutthroat humanity finds itself surrounded by a peaceful world, ripe for the picking. Rated M for safety and future chapters


The Anti-Anomalous Coaliton's Strasbourg headquarters were never known for its good design. It wasn't known for anything, in fact. Often times it's been regarded as a "brutalist eyesore", by passersby. A concrete – if well-maintained – beast sticking out of the tundra. To those lucky or unlucky enough to step past the thick blast doors that made up the first layer of defenses, they would be greeted with a claustrophobic, mind-melting maze of white, tiled corridors.

The air quality was particularly bad – despite the harsh cold of the outside, the thousand-year-old computer complexes managed to produce enough heat to, under full load, act as a heating system. This, combined with inefficient oxygen filtration systems, poorly thought-out ventilation, and the atmosphere held by passing personnel, all came together to provide a… _stuffy _quality.

High Commander Alexis Gehring thought it particularly stuffy today, as he read the report in his tanned hand.

Maybe it was because he was holding his breath.

"What the fuuuuuuck….", he was a man of high class, and even higher vocabulary, no doubt. The gangly, pale man seated across from him coughed into his hand as he spoke up.

"They said much the same thing. They reverified it across multiple observatories. No possible way for there to be an error in the report."

"Yeah, yeah, I get that… it's just… how do you lose the _moon_? We put as many reality anchors on that bitch as humanly possible, and just…", he sighed again, running a hand down his face.

"Yeah, they're a bit stumped on just how they lost it. Space station three was in line with the moon when it disappeared, so it couldn't have been a traction slip...", Gehring massaged his growing headache as he listened to Vice Commander James Donovan go on and on about the possibilities. Possible spies – traitors, maybe even insanity! He just went on and on and…

"Stop.", he held up his hand, shutting up the man instantly. "Regardless of whatever fucked this situation up, we have to unfuck it. Quickly. It's been, what, six months since it disappeared?", he got a nod in reply, "Six months of no moon. Bad enough we have no sun, now our tidal regulator is gone too. While I have no clue just _why _we haven't felt the effects of losing the moon, I do know that I won't want the GOC to be around when they _do _become apparent."

"So what do you propose?", Gehring couldn't tell whether the bead of sweat that rolled down Donovan's face was from nervousness or actual heat, but considering the situation, he didn't quite care.

"I'll tell you, but you won't like it.", a pregnant pause was had before Donovan spoke up.

"...does it involve dodging bullets from ISA?", a scoff from Gehring was what he got.

"I'm stupid, not suicidal."

"I couldn't tell.", James replied, as Gehring got up from his chair, taking but one step before being met with a filing cabinet. He opened the squeaky, rusty old thing and pulled out a well-aged manila folder.

"The line between the two is about as thick as The Administrator's skin, but enough of that. We have more important things to discuss. Like this," he tossed the folder on the desk, "Tell me, have you heard of Project Lazarus?"

* * *

**Apologies. Chapter ends here. This is a standalone setup chapter as I was having _extensive _issues developing the chapter beyond this point without the dialogue becoming awkward and stilted. Hell, it's still awkward and stilted, but it could be a helluva lot worse. To calm the fears of people who may be worried about investing into this story like they did last time, only to be left with a nearly year-long hiatus, I say this: I will not be rewriting this story. The plot is set. The relationships have been decided. The world has been cast. If anything is going to be rewritten, it will be individual chapters rewritten because it didn't do what I wanted it to.**

**Now, speaking of chapters: They shall come in packets. Let me elaborate. The story will not be following one particular character throughout. There will be reoccurring characters, but this story is _decentralized_, for the most part. To add on to that decentralization: to those who are looking for a Steven and Co. vs The Anomalous adventure, you're looking in the wrong spot. If I tried to do a Steven-centric story, he and the Gems would be in the dark. It'd be boring. Now, that's not to say you'll never hear of them, you just won't be seeing them all the time.**

**Continuing on to something even more important: I will be cutting and gutting a lot of SCPs and canon. Sorry guys, but a lot of them – especially the newer series – are simply not viable for plot I'm setting up here. Now, while a lot will be magic wand'd away, some will have their explanations. Don't be looking for them down here, however.**

**For GoI's: basically gone, now. Again, plot, and really, I don't want to deal with clowns. You'll learn which ones lived later.**

**Peace. Shitposter-In-Chief signing off.**

**Terms n shit:**

Traction: An object/entity/being's stake in reality, more traction means an object is less prone to reality benders, or other types of anomalies. Traction is determined by willpower within beings, or by ambient Hume levels for objects, entities or beings.

Traction Slip: Sudden loss of [reality] traction within an object, entity or being (OEB). During/after a Traction Slip, OEB will be extremely susceptible to the anomalous or other such entities. Traction Slips within beings are usually caused by severe distress within the consciousness, or the loss of consciousness altogether.


End file.
